A/N: Hello everyone.

Sword: Alright! Time for some action! Let's do it! *waves a spear*

Pen: Careful, you dolt!

Woah! Uh, Silver, Blaze, and all Sonic related material belong to Sega. Pen and Sword belong to me. This was requested by I'm Not Mad-I'm Alice.

Pen: Hurry up and get to it before Sword stabs someone.

Sword: Hi-yah!

Pen: Ow!

Chapter 4- Nice Shot

Registration went smoothly. No one was the wiser to Silver's true identity under his gleaming metal coat of armor. He kept his head low and avoided eye contact with most everyone. The rest of the day he spent training with Blaze. Neither discussed the ceremony. Blaze was too concerned with sparring with him and Silver was happy to oblige her.

The week passed quickly. Too quickly for Silver's liking. As soon as he turned around, it was the evening before the first event. So far, the participants and guests had mostly stayed to their own, but that evening was to gather everyone together for a ceremonial feast. The cooks had prepared a smorgasbord of food and all were welcome to attend, including the merchants, townspeople, and the servants of the castle. Silver had heard Wincott remark that it was unfitting to eat with the commoners. Silver knew that is how Blaze was. She saw all her people as extended family under her watch and care.

However, the meal presented a problem to Silver. He knew that Blaze would expect him to attend so as to have company, but Sir Locksley was due to join the feast as well. Silver pondered most of the day, berating himself for not having considered it beforehand. "I should have pretended to leave town or something," he said, groaning as he paced his guard route most of the day.

Fortunately, Gardon offered to cover for him. He would tell Blaze that Silver came down with an illness. Gardon also warned Silver that he would need to wear his armor to dinner to avoid being outed. He thanked the koala immensely and left at sunset to slip into his suit of armor.

Each guest and their party were given a room in the castle to stay. Silver had one all to himself, having no squires, servants, or people of his own. He liked that. It allowed him privacy to find his room and sneak in undetected. Inside, he put on his armor, all the while thinking of excuses for wearing it. It would be most unusual, as the other guests would be dressed in fine clothes and formal attire, but he could think of none. Maybe I can just be a mute, Silver thought as he pulled the helmet over his head. It was difficult to hide his long quills, but somehow or other, he had managed to tuck the lower ones into the chest plate and shove the upper ones into the helmet.

Outside his room, he was shock to find a knight decked out in armor too. He was slimmer and stood with his arms crossed. "Sir Locksley?" he asked in a gruff voice.

"Yes?" Silver said. He cleared his throat and answered again in a deeper tone. "Yes. And who are you?"

"Sir Percival."

Blaze. Silver almost froze up. He did not even recognize her. The sturdy armor covered every inch of her. She even had the posture of a knight perfected. Not that it was difficult with Blaze. All her combat experience helped.

"Everyone is waiting for us," Blaze said. Silver nodded and walked beside her to the dining hall.

"I suppose great minds think alike," Silver said. Blaze stared at him through the slits in her helmet. "The armor and all." She turned away. Did she know it was him? She may suspect after having heard his voice. Silver could not be sure, so he tried to distract her any way he could. "So why are you wearing your armor?"

"Why are you wearing yours?" she asked.

"Uh, scars," Silver said. "Big, nasty ones." He spread his arms wide. "Makes people sick to their stomach when eating." His voice wavered. He was no good at lying and the way Percival was watching him, in the only way she could, he came clean with her. "Actually, I like wearing my armor for protection. Hides my face too."

"Hiding your face has advantages in battle," Blaze said.

"Yeah, yeah. Nobody can know what you're planning."

They entered the dining hall, drawing all eyes to them. Silver made a misstep, but closely followed Blaze to two empty seats at the end of one table, right across from Stewart. Some people whispered about their appearance, but most were eagerly watching the kitchen for the food to be brought out. Behind them, Wincott stood up and shouted to the gathering of royal advisers near the front. "There! Everyone is here! Let's begin!" the dog demanded.

"Princess Blaze is not here yet," one of the advisers replied.

"And she will not be," Thomas said, emerging from a hall. "The princess had to attend to royal duties. She apologizes for her absence."

Silver looked at Blaze, but she was fixated on Thomas. Had she told Thomas her plan or had he found out?

"Then let us eat!" Wincott barked once more. The advisers shrugged and ordered the food to be served. All kinds of delicious selections were brought to the table. Potatoes of every kind, stuffed pastries, soups with fresh vegetables sliced neatly into the mix, and cakes for dessert were just a few samplings that Silver saw. There was also a smattering of foreign food, cooked up especially for the guests and their taste. One was a dish of red, candy-shaped appetizers that were tarty and another had diced peppers in a green paste that was better to eat than look at.

It was a great meal and most everyone sent compliments to the chefs. As Silver chowed down, lifting the visor of his helmet for the briefest of moments to shovel food in like Blaze did, he caught Stewart staring at him. The lizard's eyes were thoughtful and rotated back and forth between the Silver and Blaze. He was like a detective, trying to solve some elusive mystery, and Silver knew what was coming.

Finally, Stewart dabbed his mouth and paused from eating. "May I ask why you are wearing your armor?" he asked. It had only been a matter of time. After all, everyone else was dressed in rich garments. Stewart himself was wearing am evergreen satin shirt and dark leggings. Compared to that, Silver and Blaze stuck out like silver thumbs amongst a rainbow-colored hand.

"You may," Blaze said. She took another bite of a pastry.

Stewart smiled slightly, yet it was not cold like Silver had expected. Despite his appearance, Stewart had a warm aura. In fact, the way he looked at Blaze was as a father would a child who had started some strange, but endearing habit. "Why are you wearing your armor? The tournament does not begin until tomorrow."

"It helps to be prepared," Blaze said.

Stewart did not buy that for a minute, but let the issue drop. "I am sorry," he said, bowing his head. "I have forgotten my manners. I am Sir Stewart, or Sir Stewart the Stout if you prefer."

"Sir Percival. Sir Percival the Keen," Blaze returned. They turned to Silver and he gulped, running through a list of possible names.

"Sir Locksley the," he searched the room for any idea. "The, the," he stalled. His mind was a complete blank.

"The?" Stewart asked.

"Unyielding!" Silver blurted out. Several people stared at him and he lowered his head. "Sir Locksley the Unyielding."

"Well, Sir Locksley," Stewart said, nodding in his direction, "Sir Percival," another nod to Blaze, "from where do you hail?"

Why didn't I anticipate any of this? Silver thought. As he silently chastised himself, Blaze answered. "From far away. I have never seen a gathering of lords and nobles like this."

"Yes, yes," Stewart said, examining the room. He was preoccupied and seemingly forgot about posing his question to Silver. The hedgehog reminded himself to thank Blaze profusely later. "I look forward to the tournament. It should prove to be most interesting."

"How many tournaments have you competed in?" Silver asked.

"Plenty. From one side of the realm to the other. I just love them, don't you?" He inhaled deeply and waved his hand carelessly. "There's nothing like a good competition and sportsmanship."

"A shame everyone cannot share your view," Silver muttered, glancing over his should at Wincott. The dog was merrily drinking and harassing the staff, proving most irksome to many.

Stewart caught Silver's remark and leaned to the side, grimacing at Wincott. "Yes, a shame. But there are people like that. You cannot let it ruin your mood, Sir Locksley." He took aside one of the servants, and told him to deliver his compliments to the chefs. Then he slipped what Silver believed to be gold pieces into the young servant's hand.

Silver had the distinct feeling that he was being watched. He knew it was coming from Blaze. As soon as Stewart had diverted his attention elsewhere, she had faced Silver. She knows. Silver panicked. He had blown his cover. He had to leave before he was caught. Maybe he could distract her somehow and slip away.

"Have you two heard of the Chaucer tournament to the south?" Stewart asked. Sweet relief washed through Silver when Blaze took her eyes off him.

"No, I do not believe I have," Blaze said.

"One of my favorite competitions they hold down there," Stewart said. His eyes were alight with wonder as if he were viewing the tournament as he spoke. "They hold it each year. And the participants it attracts are grand. All honorable people, there to test their skill and mettle, all respectfully acknowledging the winner in an honest fashion with compliments and gifts. The atmosphere during it is so lively and merry. No one has a care in the world during it."

"Sounds wonderful," Blaze said.

"It is. That it is," Stewart said. "Perhaps you two would do me the honor of joining me when it starts again. New people are always welcome."

"Sure," Silver said.

"We would love to," Blaze agreed.

"Excellent!"

Silver listened to more of Stewart's tales of tournaments and adventures he had been on. He found the lizard enjoyed discussing various tournaments instead of wars and battlefield glory.

"I've been in battle more often than tournaments," Stewart had told them at one point. He frowned at that statement and stabbed a piece of food with his fork. "Unfortunately, there is more war than I care for. Not that I am not happy to serve and defend king and country when I am needed and there is no other option, but I prefer friendly competition to unnecessary bloodshed."

"So do I," Blaze said. Silver nodded along with her.

Stewart regarded them with accepting eyes. "So do you two enter for yourselves or some lord?" he asked.

"Myself," Silver said.

"The same," Blaze added. "How about you? You are entering for Lord Alans, correct?"

"That is correct." He glanced at the lord. Alans was listening to one of the other people at his table, chuckling at some joke or the talk amongst them. "He is a decent fighter, but he wanted to leave nothing to chance. When he came to ask me, I saw no harm in it. He paid well enough and other than driving a hard bargain, he is well-respected. It has been a while after all since I have been asked represent a lord. Most believe that once you have a few decades on you, you're too old to fight."

"Their loss," Silver said. He knew from experience that Gardon could hold his own against younger opponents. So Stewart, being not near as old, would be just as dangerous. That weighed heavily on his mind. Stewart was battle-hardened and seemed to partake in every tournament he could find. He was shaping up to be the person to watch out for during this tournament.

"I thank you, Locksley. Nice to know some people realize that."

The rest of the meal, Silver and Blaze listened to Stewart's stories. Every once in a while, Stewart would tell a story about how a weakness of his was exploited or how he was almost defeated. Silver would him for more details, but the lizard would grin and say, "Best left to figure out on your own."

In all the stories, he had never lost and Silver could not recall ever hearing of Stewart being defeated. Maybe he hasn't run into the right opponent yet, Silver reassured himself. However, he fretted long after dinner was through and everyone headed to their rooms. Blaze and he would have to take care not to slip up against Stewart.

The next day, everyone was up bright and early. Silver brought breakfast to his room and nibbled on it as he mentally prepared for the archery event. Just eliminate as many as you can, he told himself. Then Blaze has a good shot.

He heard a sharp rapping on his door. "Let me in." Gardon was muffled, but unmistakable. Silver opened the door and following the koala were two guards. Guards that were under Silver's charge.

"Gardon!" Silver slammed the door shut and locked it. "What are you-"

"May I present your squire and bodyguard," Gardon said. One was a black bear standing well over Silver, grinned in a cheeky manner as the other- a squat, far weasel- clasped his hands together, heartily smiling. "It's going to be suspicious if a knight shows up all alone," Gardon explained. "After all, Blaze has her own squire. So Brimble and Slate have agreed to help out."

"So exciting, sneaking around like this and all," the weasel said. "I never knew you had a wild, law-breaking side to you."

"It's for the princess, Slate," Brimble said. Then looked at Silver. "It is, isn't it?"

"Yes," Silver said, nodding. "I'm doing it for her."

"Well, you can count on me then." Brimble grabbed Silver's hand, shaking it roughly and squeezing it hard. The hedgehog pulled away before he could break it.

"Me too," Slate said, shaking Silver's hand as well.

An hour later, the field was ready to receive the participants. Silver, Brimble, and Slate headed out for the field, carrying a few bows and dozens of arrows. Silver had borrowed a horse from the stables. After they had decked his steed out in armor and decorative pieces of his "land", nobody recognized it. The saddle was draped in green trimmed with a red border and there was a crimson feather emblazoned in the middle on both sides.

"There's two I heard to watch out for," Brimble said as he lugged the quivers of arrows.

"I take it Sir Stewart is one?" Silver said from on high atop his steed. The sun had not been in the sky that long, but was already cooking him in his armor. He desperately wished to wipe away the beads of sweat in his eye. But all the other competitors were riding to the field around him.

"Yes, but Sir Wincott is deadly with a bow and arrow too." Brimble hefted his load to the other hand. "Maybe even better than Sir Stewart."

"Thanks, I'll keep that in mind."

"You have a plan?" Brimble asked.

"Take out as many as I can before I'm eliminated," Silver said, shrugging. "Boost Blaze's chances. From there, she should be able to win."

"That's what Gardon told us you would do."

"What else did Gardon tell you?" Silver asked slowly.

"Only what he felt we needed to know," Slate said. "We pieced together the rest." He patted Silver's leg good-naturedly and threw a knowing look at Brimble. The hedgehog sighed.

All the competitors clumped together off the field, dismounted, and allowed their horses to be taken away. Silver was thankful they were required to stay fully equipped in their armor even during this event. He remembered it had to do about simulating battlefield conditions even though it was a tournament. Down the way, Silver spotted Stewart outfitted in his fine armor with a red shield trimmed in gold on the chest plate, but he could not find Blaze or Wincott. Bannermen of the kings or nobles they fought for stood stiffly behind some of the competitors. Stewart's lord sported a blue background with two onyx swords crossed over one another in combat. The field had twelve circular slabs of hay lined up and large painted targets in the center. The crowd sitting on the side of the field was already cheering and waving colors of their favorite knights. Unsurprisingly, no one waved banners or signs for Silver. Not that he cared, but he thought it would have been nice to see.

Thomas marched onto the field, followed by two guards. Once he reached the center of the field, he faced the line of eager knights, lords, and nobles. "Brave men before us, today we start the tournament! Princess Blaze has sent her apologies that she could not be here, but she wishes you all the best of luck. May the best man win! Let the tournament commence!" He raised his hands high and the crowd went wild.

When the people had calmed down, he continued. "The first event is archery. Twelve of you will shoot at a time. The person with the best shot will move onto the next round. This will continue until all, but one have been eliminated. Under no circumstances are you to interfere with each other's shots in any way, shape, or form." He gave the entire group a hard glare.

Silver was in the first set to go. Brimble handed him a sturdy bow and one arrow. Silver planted his feet firmly into the ground. He notched the arrow and took aim. Just relax, he told himself. Just like in training. Suddenly, he was back in the gardens, aiming down the walkway and Blaze was encouraging him.

"You can do it," she said. "I know you can."

"I can do it," Silver mumbled.

He released the arrow. Twang! went the bow. The arrow soared through the air, slicing the empty space with a fixed goal. Silently, it struck the target, nestling outside the center. Silver's arrows were joined by all the others, but he did not bother to watch. He had done it. He lowered his head, taking the time to relax.

Brimble tapped Silver on the shoulder. "Uh," he said, letting the word hang between off his jaw. Silver looked up and found an arrow more accurate than his own.

"No," he said incredulously. "No." He gripped the sides of his helmet. Who had shot straighter? Who had been the better archer?

Wincott stepped forth from the line and raised his fists to the crowd. Some cheered, others booed, but he claimed ownership of the arrow all the same. As others filed off for the next batch of shooters, Silver fell to his knees. How could I be so careless? he thought.

Visions of a disappointed Blaze flashed in his mind. "How could you be so careless?" she said, waggling her finger in his face.

Brimble and Slate lifted Silver off his feet. "Come on," Slate hissed. They arranged Silver in such a way that he appeared to be walking on his own. "You're drawing attention."

Silver's feet refused to register his commands to move until he had been dragged a several yards. I failed. He stumbled away off to the side with the other people who had been eliminated. I failed Blaze.

Several of the participants had been downtrodden when Wincott won the first round, but Blaze had not seen any so crushed as the knight being dragged away by a large bear and a weasel. It was like he had collapsed mentally and given up then and there on the spot. A strange sight, but one that she did not have time to think about too long. She stepped up to the line and took the bow from the servant-turned-squire sparrow. "Thank you, Walt."

"Good luck," he said, and stepped aside.

Blaze notched the arrow and took aim. It was an easy shot. As she prepared to release, she could almost see and hear Silver once more, cheering her on in the garden. When her arrow struck dead center, he praised her. "Great shot!"

The crowed waved their banners and flags, some hissing and booing, but many applauding when she won the round. Several more rounds passed, with Stewart claiming victory in one, before Blaze was up again. The numbers were thinned out over and over. Each time, Blaze's shot always hit its mark, as did Wincott's and Stewart's.

In the penultimate shot, Blaze watched Stewart and Wincott face down each other with three others. The frenzious audience was causing too much commotion for the officials- already too far away- to notice one of Wincott's squires slip behind Stewart. As they prepared to fire, Blaze saw the squire knock Stewart's legs aside, throwing off his shot. It sailed into the crowd, thankfully missing everyone. The squire was gone before Stewart could find him. Wincott's arrow proved the truest, beating everyone else.

Only Blaze seemed to have seen the entire thing and she raised an objection about it. "He cheated," she said when she had the attention of one official. She fingered Wincott accusingly. "He had his squire trip Sir Stewart during the shot."

"That's a lie," Wincott said, rebuking her. "Did anyone else see it?" No one else raised their hand.

"I think the knight is telling tall tales," the squire who had tripped Stewart said. "How dare he insult our glorious Sir Wincott."

"Why you-" Blaze said, starting toward him, but Stewart laid a hand on her shoulder. He shook his head.

"I saw it," Sir Locksley claimed, coming forth with the bear and weasel.

"You were too far away to see anything," the squire sneered.

The official shrugged. "Well, we could have a re-shoot, but the judges have already ruled Sir Wincott as the winner of this round."

The other knights were open to the idea, but Wincott's posse immediately rejected the idea. They rose a stink and began decrying unfair practice in the tournament and favoritism. "Sir Wincott won fair and square!" they shouted, turning to the audience and calling attention to their plight. Wincott stood in the middle of it all, smiling.

Stewart pulled the official aside. "Look, I will take the loss. Let's just continue the tournament."

The official nodded, the tension draining from his shoulders. "Very well," he said, his voice full of gratitude.

"But-" Blaze started, yet again, Stewart stopped her.

"It is alright. He will get his," Stewart said. "One only needs to win two out of three in this tournament. Just do me a favor." He glanced over his shoulder at Wincott. "Win this event."

She nodded and walked up to the line for the final round. Stewart stood close to her side, as did the Sir Locksley. "Good luck," Locksley said, shuffling around in his spot.

"Thank you," Blaze replied. She could not help, but feel there was something familiar about the way he stood. It was a shy, hesitant posture that she had seen before.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the crowd whistling and screaming to begin. She noticed her arrow, leaving protection from any interference to Stewart, Locksley, and all their respective squires and bodyguards. Wincott shot first, hitting the red spot just on the edge.

Blaze breathed slow, taking careful aim. Again, she heard Silver's voice, but it was closer, as if outside of her head. "You can do it," he whispered. "I believe in you."

She released the arrow. All its pent-up energy flung it forward like a bullet, but for Blaze, she could see every inch that it moved, as if time had slowed to a crawl. It rose, climbing for the heavens, leveled out to soar like a bird, then dipped down toward its target. With absolute certainty, it hit the bright, rosy circle with perfect accuracy. Right in the middle.

The fanfare that resulted was deafening. All the people were shouting, "Percival!" and it did not take a judge to know that she had won. Stewart clapped her on the shoulder, grinning as Wincott and his group sulked in the background. What took Blaze by surprise was Locksley wrapping his arms around her, letting out a large breath. "You did it!" he said, amazed and relieved. Then he seemed to realize what he was doing and drew away from her. "Er, sorry. I just really didn't want Sir Wincott to win."

"You and me both," Blaze said, completely elated. "Let us all celebrate. My treat."

Silver, Blaze, Stewart, and their own squires and bodyguards enjoyed a meal at one of the local restaurants. It was one Silver had visited before, being as it was Blaze's personal favorite, and they had had a merry time.

Afterwards, they had gone their separate ways. Blaze had thanked both of them for helping at the tournament. "It was our pleasure," Stewart said.

"Yes, our pleasure," Silver repeated, bowing.

Once she had left, Silver and Stewart headed back to their rooms discussing the event. Mostly they talked about Stewart's great shooting. "Been shooting since I was young," Stewart said. "Although I much prefer a crossbow myself."

"You probably would've won the archery round," Silver said.

"Better than you can say for yourself," someone said. They turned and found Wincott striding toward them, his head held high and chest puffed out as if to show off its painted black shield insignia outlined in white. "The loss hit you so hard that you collapsed. Not used to losing or is this your first tournament? Better get used to it either way."

Silver clenched his fists, but Stewart put a hand in front of him. "It's not like you won either," the white hedgehog said. Wincott frowned. "Besides, I'd rather lose than cheat."

"Sir Stewart stumbled due to his own clumsiness," Wincott said, waving his hand nonchalantly at the knight in question. "If you aren't willing to do what's necessary to win, then you have no place being here anyway. No one will remember who was the most chivalrous or the most skillful in this tournament. They will only remember who won. Not that skill is an issue with you, Sir Locksley." He pushed through them and disappeared behind a corner.

"Don't listen to him. The ends do not justify the means," Stewart said, as they continued walking down the grand hall. "People like him carry a reputation and not a good one. The sort of marks he has on his character can determine to kings and lords who to hire. After all, a loyal, honorable knight brings more peace of mind than a ruthless, cutthroat one."

Silver only half-listened. Wincott had struck a chord with him that refused to stop vibrating. He had failed today and shamed himself in Blaze's eyes. Of that, he was sure. She could have failed and then all their hard work would be for naught. He could not allow anyone else to win even one event; only Blaze or he could win.

Stewart left him once they reached the lizard's room. "Good night," Stewart said.

"Good night." Silver headed for his own room. He had to do better tomorrow. He must do better tomorrow. No matter what, he had to make it farther.

A/N: And that ends that chapter! Time for sleep now.

Sword: If you have any comments or critiques, leave them and I'll read them off my spear! Hi-yah!

Pen: Ouch! That is it! En garde!